


love transcends the internet!

by whenisayvolyousaytronvol



Series: randomly generated love [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Humor, I have no idea what I'm doing, M/M, does that tag even apply here lmao, ft. lev the disaster and starring yaku the mom friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 14:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18012689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenisayvolyousaytronvol/pseuds/whenisayvolyousaytronvol
Summary: (Yaku swore he felt like an exasperated mother sometimes).





	love transcends the internet!

**Author's Note:**

> really had no idea what i was getting into when i started this series did i lmao
> 
> i feel so bad for yaku. also goshiki and tendou are there for like 2 seconds but im not gonna tag them. bone apple teeth
> 
> *taken from another fic i had previously written, just wanted to split up the drabbles lmao

“Yaku-san!” Yaku flinched as Lev suddenly nudged his bony elbow into his side for the millionth time. The libero sighed and furrowed his eyebrows. He was starting to regret suggesting watching old Shiratorizawa matches as an example of what impressive offense looked like for Lev. He insisted that he was going to be the future ace of Nekoma and yet didn’t want to practice as hard as an actual ace would have to in order to be the top scorer. Unbelievable.

Yaku turned his head to scold the first year and maybe lightly smack him in the back of the head, as he usually did. He expected to be informed about the major dump Lev may or may not have been waiting for the opportunity to unload. (Yaku swore he felt like an exasperated mother sometimes).

But the look on Lev’s face was not one that signaled one of his signature laughable statements was oncoming. His eyes were wide, almost sparkling, and focused entirely on the screen of the laptop sitting on the floor of Nekoma’s club room in front of them. Or, rather, his eyes were focused entirely on one of Shiratorizawa’s players.

“Yeah?” Yaku replied, now genuinely curious as to what the first year was wondering. He rarely made any remarks about a player’s technique. This was unusual.

Lev enthusiastically pointed at the team member running across the screen. “Who’s he?”

Yaku tried to look closer, moving his head towards the laptop to get a better view of the video. After a few moments of studying the screen, he could see that the athlete’s white and purple jersey said had the number 10 on it. His honey blonde hair was sort of flat, and, in Yaku’s opinion, kind of resembled a toned-down bowl cut, at least, if it hadn’t been for the slanting fringe that covered his forehead, save for a missing piece that divided the bangs into two uneven sections. He was small in comparison to the other members on the team, but he seemed to be holding his own. Yaku wished he couldn’t relate.

However, after watching the match for a bit longer, it was obvious that number 10 was the token setter of the team. Why Lev had chosen to point out him specifically and not one of the middle blockers, wing spikers or even Ushijima Wakatoshi himself was beyond him.

Ah, well. It was a start.

The libero shrugged. “I don’t know. We can look him up after.” He once again turned to Lev. “Why? You interested in setting?”

Lev shook his head. “No, it’s just…” the middle blocker blushed.

Yaku’s worried mom friend senses activated. The first year was usually extremely unabashedly blunt and childish, it was odd to see him so uncharacteristically… Flustered? Were Russians even capable of being embarrassed? “Are you okay, Lev?”

He nodded furiously. “Yeah! Of course! It’s just that” -he looked around to make sure nobody was watching, even though it was obvious they were alone in the room, and cupped his hands around his mouth to whisper/shout into Yaku’s ear in a conspiratorial manner- “ _he’s really cute_.”

Yaku internally heaved a long, suffering sigh. Of course he didn’t point out number 10 to talk about something actually volleyball-related. Nope. He was just a disaster. At least he was back in character. “Is that so?”

He nodded, flushing down to the tips of his ears once again. “Yeah. Really cute.” His eyes were drawn back to the match playing on the laptop as a cheer erupted from the crowd. Shiratorizawa had apparently won the first set 25-19. Yaku blinked. Last he remembered, the score was 14-6. How long had they been talking about this? Surely far too long. He saw Lev’s eyes following the setter across the screen as the powerhouse team huddled off to the side of the stadium, already waiting for the next set. He looked way too starstruck for someone he didn’t even know the name of.

The smaller of the two pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Did you notice anything about his form? The way he adapted to the spiker’s needs depending on where they stood on the court? Anything?”

Lev turned his head back to Yaku. “Sorry, what did you say, Yaku-san?”

Yaku could only stare at him incredulously, yet another small part of his soul shriveling up and dying on the spot. “Nothing. I think that’s enough for today.”

He pouted. “Aww, really? Do we have to stop?”

Yaku stood up and grabbed his stuff. “I meant for me. You keep doing… Whatever you were doing. See you at practice tomorrow, Lev.” He quickly opened the door and left the club room.

He wondered if he should have forced him to leave when the middle blocker showed up to practice the next day almost dead on his feet from exhaustion.

Kuroo walked up to him, a slightly annoyed look on his face. “What the hell did you do to our future ace, Yakkun?”

“I told you, I didn’t do anything,” he growled, smacking the captain lightly on the arm as, together, they watched their tallest middle blocker fail to roof a ball and instead get smacked in the face. “He did it to himself.”

 

Some time later, in the Shiratorizawa club room, three members of the volleyball team gathered in the club room, watching Nekoma play Karasuno at nationals on one Goshiki Tsutomu’s tablet.

Tendou Satori reached across the first year to jab a finger into Shirabu Kenjirou’s face. “Hey, Shirabu, you see that tall number eleven playing for Nekoma? Isn’t he totally your type?"

The fringe-haired number 10 pushed away the finger, although blushing slightly. “Tendou-san, can you please stop? They’re almost at set point, I’m trying to focus.”

Tendou clicked his tongue as his eyebrows shot into his hairline. “You’re not denying it!”

Goshiki could no longer remember why he agreed to let them view the match with him. All he could do was try to watch the screen around Tendou’s flailing arms and Shirabu’s increasingly desperate attempts to push them back.

He really needed new senpais.

**Author's Note:**

> tried my best with this one LMAO
> 
> hope you enjoyed! feel free to comment ฅ(• ɪ •)ฅ


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